


A Midnight Violin

by Pi (Rhea)



Category: Diana Tregarde Investigations, Supernatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-23
Updated: 2011-11-23
Packaged: 2017-10-26 11:14:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/282392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhea/pseuds/Pi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean are on a case. Diana is too. Written 2008</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Midnight Violin

For once Sam isn’t the only person in the bar hunched over a laptop. He notices this during a momentary stretch break as he bends backwards arms over his head and wriggling his back. Two tables behind him a woman with long chestnut hair wearing what looks like a leotard and jeans is taping a finger against her lips thoughtfully before she bends in a flurry of typing. Sam grins and goes back to his work. This place does have free wifi. Dean’s hitting up the bar, and the girls at the bar, and Sam is researching their current gig. As much as Sam might bitch about it he doesn’t mind research, college paid off for some things. Dean wanders back over as Sam is glaring the web into offering him something.

“Got it yet?” Dean asks, setting himself down into the table’s second chair.  
Sam shakes his head. “Not yet, but it’ll happen, where there’s smoke there’s a fire.” Sam starts reviewing his notes but Dean’s not paying attention to him, instead he’s looking past Sam, and Sam sighs when he sees the look on Dean’s face. Dean grins and slaps Sam’s shoulder  
“Dude, check out the hot chick behind you.” Sam doesn’t turn. “No she’s totally your type, she’s got a laptop too. Wouldn’t that be a match made in heaven, the only two people in the world who would work in a place like this, and she’s hot.”  
“Dean, she’s working, or something, just…leave it.” Sam turns back to the laptop and smiled. “Here we go.”  
“Got something?”  
Sam nods. “Remember that eBay site you thought was hilarious.”  
“ ‘Buy the Unexplainable!’ Possessed objects for obscene prices.” Dean laughs, “And total bull, just reading through the page you know it’s all fake.” Sam shrugs.  
“Well, remember there was that violin? It seems that we’ve found the culprit.”  
“You’re kidding me. Demon’s don’t possess instruments.”  
“It’s not necessarily possessed, there are lots of stories of haunted or cursed instruments. Violins in particular. There’s one where a carpenter uses the wood left over after making a coffin and the violin calls down “the darkness” and drives him to insanity and death” Sam points to one book, “And another in which violin maker Sebastiano of Cremona apparently dies making love to his violin, then the guy he made it for steals it from the dead body.”  
“That’s sick, is that even…”  
Sam cut’s Dean off-“When he plays it, the violin sounds rapturous even though he’s sub-par player, but to everyone else it sounds horrific. He can’t not play the violin and eventually dies because all he does is play.”  
“Okay fine, so what do we do about it?”  
“Well, first we get in there, grab the violin, and then burn it, I guess.”  
“Salt and burn? Really? I thought it’d be more complicated.”  
“Apparently not, in two of the cases the violin was burnt and all problems stopped, in the other it just disappeared at the owner’s death.”  
“Okay so we get the violin and torch it, then hit the road.”  
“But we can’t play it. That’s the thing, if you hear it’s music at all, you’re screwed. So no touching the strings.” Sam warns glaring at Dean who nodds his acknowledgement.  
“Should we go tonight?”  
“Better now than later. If anyone else plays it we’ll have more dead body’s on our hands.”

Sam collects the books and articles off the table and puts them neatly away in his bag, shutting down the laptop and wedging it in after them. He stands and stretches. The woman is still at the table behind them pattering away at her laptop. Sam smiles and cracks his neck from side to side before sholdering the bag and following Dean out to the car. They stop back at the hotel to drop off the books and organize. They make it to alleyway behind The Dusty String at a quarter to midnight, Dean’s in front and Sam’s watching behind them. After scouting the building the first time they checked out the store they know how to disable the alarm. Sam may not have chosen this job as his perfect career, but breaking and entering is something he and Dean have learned to do well. Except that everything doesn’t always go as planned.

Things happen so fast Sam isn’t exactly certain what he’s seen till the proverbial dust settles. One minute Dean’s about to cut the alarm, the next he’s pinned against the wall by a figure Sam vaguely reckognizes.  
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. My friend owns this shop and I’m a blackbelt so consider this fair warning.” Dean makes eyemotions at Sam. Sam knows the ‘get her the fuck off me’ signal when he sees it but instead steps out of his spot of shadow.  
“Hey, we’re sorry, we’re not trying to do any harm.” She whirls around on him, Dean still pinned, but in her momentary distraction Dean kicks out and rolls to the ground, coming up to stand next to Sam, gun out and cocked already.  
“Dean!” Sam says with a glare.  
“Safety first, Sammy.” He turns to stare down the woman. As she steps out into the marginally better light away from the edges of the buildings, Sam recognizes her: the woman from the bar.  
“What are you doing here?” Dean demands.  
“I could ask the same of you, but breaking and entering seems a pretty obvious answer.”  
“I don’t even play an instrument, so what would I want to do that for? Actually I’m performing a civil service so it’d be great if you could either leave, or…” Dean gestures with the gun. The woman stands unfazed. The air around them seems to crackle. Dean doesn’t move but Sam feels the hairs on his arms start to lift.  
“Dean.” He warns voice a low whine. Dean glances to him, takes in the expression on his face.  
“Talk to me Sammy.” Instead Sam looks directly at the woman.  
“We’re not here to do any harm.” He says slowly and clearly. She doesn’t visibly relax but Sam feels the tension seeping out of their surroundings. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair.  
“Dean, this is really bizarre, but can we just tell her?” Sam knows that Dean hates when civilians get in their way. Sam hates it too, they bitch and scream and generally seem to try and get themselves killed. But, they have to get the violin tonight. It’s in the front window and so far three customers have requested to play it, done so and gone home to commit suicide.  
“Sammy?” Dean questions, swaying a bit on the spot. Sam shrugs Dean slowly lowers the gun to his side, but Sam knows he’s still at the ready.

“I’m Sam, this is my brother Dean.” Sam offers. “We’re here because…ah. You said your friend owns the shop?” The woman nods. “Well, you see, we think one of the instruments is, ah dangerous. So we’re here to fix it.” The woman looks at them incredulously and then smiles a wide, bright smile. Sam’s taken aback by the reaction, even more so when she steps forward, Dean tensing beside him, as she offers her hand.  
“I’m Diana Tregarde, call me Di.” Sam tentatively takes her hand and she smiles even more widely. “It’s really good to meet you.” She steps back crossing her arms and looking at them appraisingly, “So how were you intending to take care of this thing.”  
“Salt’n Burn.” Dean growls gleefully. Sam shoots him a look and he shrugs. “It’s what the research we’ve done suggests would work best.” Di frowns.  
“Shouldn’t you try cleansing rituals first? Not all “possessed” objects are irreparable.” Dean twitches and Di laughs. “Hey, no sweat, I’ve heard of you guys.” Sam steps back and places a cautionary hand on Dean’s wrist because judging by the look on his face.  
“Don’t worry, it’s only the good stuff. Our circles intermesh. Hey, do you remember that mess with an Aztec god down in Dallas?” Diana offers. Dean looks to Sam who nods. Sam keeps tabs on the hunting world, loosely through the Roadhouse. It’d been a pretty big deal. Generally gods weren’t something hunters messed with. He and Dean had taken a trickster but Sam still had misgivings about that one. It was hard, but even with all that, it had seemed too easy.  
“Yeah, I might have heard something like that.”  
“Well that was me. Not single-handed obviously, I had a little help.” Dean looks with reassessing admiration and Di smiles, offering him her hand. They shake and Sam can see Dean relaxing at an equal in her grip.

“So.” He says, “Why are you here?”  
“I said I know the owner. He’s a friend and not totally oblivious. He knew something was off about the violin when he got it, so he called me. Now if you want, I could unlock the store for you and let you guys in. I was planning a cleansing ritual for this evening, but if that doesn’t work there’d be time for you to burn the thing and be home before breakfast.” She laughs and walks towards the iron grating across the back door. “You in?” Dean grins and follows her. Sam sighs and trails after him, after closing up the alarm box and making sure no signs of attempted break-in remain.

The inside of the store is dark but Di flicks on the lights as Sam enters. Dean pulls a set of leather gloves out of his pockets and heads to where the violin’s displayed in the front window. Di shoots him an odd look.  
“Better not to touch it directly when we’re not quite sure how it works. This is just to be safe.” Dean explains, gingerly holding the violin. “Good thing I don’t know how to play.” He grins to Sam. Sam knows that smile, it’s a prankish one, the kind Dean throws him before daring him to eat something foul, or dropping an icecube from his coke down the back of Sam’s neck.  
“Don’t make this difficult Dean.” Sam warns and Dean tilts his head in acquiescence. Sam looks over to where Diana is fetched up against a pillar watching their eyebrow conversation with an amused expression.  
“So boys, are we going to nuke this sucker or not?” She gestures to the circle at her feet. “I figure that’ll do it, and if not,” she pulls a zippo from her jeans, “this aughta do.” Dean smiles wide and gently places the violin in the center of the circle, oriented as she directed. Then Sam and Dean stood back to watch Diana do her thing.

At first nothing seemed to change, she muttered under her breath and the air seemed stiller, but then Sam knew something was happening. He could feel a stirring beneath his feet. He darted a glance to Dean who seemed oblivious, watching Diana’s face in the rapt, almost vacant way that alternately amused or pissed of Sam depending on the day and how serious whatever their current problem was. The movement of other in the room felt like a problem, but Sam was pretty sure, or at least he hoped, it was Di who was doing the work. So he took deep breaths, unclenched his fists and tried to relax, to find that state in which he could be ready for anything but not a jangle of nerves. Di was raising her hands, her voice growing louder and a small wind seemed to come out of nowhere whipping around her and the circle, fluttering her hair. Dean frowns but says nothing, his hand going to rest lightly at his gun. Sam watchs carefully. Di shouts her last words which are followed by the sound of a small thunderclap, the whirling of air and energy pitching forward and down into the violin in a rush. The small intsturment vibrates under the pressure before at last all is still.

It’s a moment before Di looks up.  
“Do we have to torch it?” Dean asks. Diana leans over the circle and picks the instrument out. She held it in her hands and looks at it closely.  
“Sam?” Sam blinks as she holds it out to him.  
“What?”  
“What do you think. Feel anything.” Diana asks placing the violin into his hands. Sam looks to Dean who looks as perplexed as he is, and a little bit annoyed. Sam stares at the violin. It doesn’t feel any different, but Sam had never really given much thought to violins before this case, so he doesn’t know what it is supposed to feel like. He’s never actually touched the thing before, so there was nothing to compare there either.  
“It feels like it’s made of wood and could probably make music.” Sam offers. Di laughes.  
“Well, then I think we’re good. Give it here.” Sam hands it back, and she plucks a bow from one of the shelves. “If I start looking suicidal burn it.” She says with a grin and flourish of the bow. Then she bent it to the strings and started to play what Sam vaguely recognized as an Irish fiddle tune. The music sounds normal and after a bit Di puts the violin down.  
“No burning necessary here gentlemen, which means it’s time for me to go home and go to bed.” She returns it to the front case and heads for the back door. Sam and Dean quickly follow.  
“Ah, hey wait!” Sam starts as they hit the alley.  
“Don’t you think we should celebrate?” Dean asks with a sly grin. “I know a nice bar that’s even got wireless. You two crazy kids can talk laptops and I’ll get myself a few.” Sam sighs and glares at Dean, but Diana nods after a moment.  
“Sounds fine by me.”

They return to the bar where Sam had first spotted Diana, and Dean quickly sets himself up with the aforementioned beers and a cute girl at the bar. Sam fiddles with his own drink and tries not to look too awkward. Diana laughs, but not cruelly, at his discomfort.  
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to take your brother’s hints. I’m in a relationship, and you for one, don’t look entirely thrilled with the idea.”  
“Oh, it’s not, you’re very attractive but…” Sam protests with a start before shutting his mouth with a click. He’s tired, and possibly a little tipsy and clearly not thinking with all four burners. Diana gives a full throated laugh.  
“Sorry.” Sam mutters.  
“No it’s okay, I get it.” She mollifiea, shaking her head. “So how is it you got into the business anyways. I mean, obviously you’re a psi, but you don’t use it.”  
“What?”  
“You’ve got Gifts, right?” Diana looka at him curiously, “really strong ones too. Well shielded, but obvious, I mean, I’m good so I know.” Sam stares at her in confusion.  
“Wait, you don’t know?” Di looks incredulous. “With a talent like yours, untrained and unaware, in your job? I thought you must.”  
“You’re talking around me here.” Sam comments dryly, “Mind telling me what it is you think I am.”  
“A psychic. Like me, I have a gift. I can use magick, control energies. I’m a high priestess, you know. You’re obviously not a practicing witch, but you’ve got abilities. But you’re really well shielded. If it wasn’t you someone else must have put them on you, that might be why you don’t know what your gifts are. Often these things run in families, did your parents ever mention anything like this to you? With your profession I just assumed it was a family thing.”  
“My mother died when I was just a baby and I don’t think my father ever mentioned anything like that, we learned everything about hunting from him.” Sam shrugs. “So you think I have some sort of power?”  
“Definitely, could be from your mother, did you know any psychics as a kid? Their good blocks, not really powerful, but lovely craftsmanship.” Sam nods slowly, thinking.  
“Missouri, our dad went to a psychic after…after our mother died. Her name was Missouri.” Diana nods thoughtfully.  
“I don’t recognize the name, but it’s not like all psi know each other. You should try using your gifts, training, learning to shield yourself. Whoever it was did good work, but it wont hold forever, I’m surprised you’ve gotten this old without something going wrong, especially in your line fo work. Psi tend to attract more supernatural entities.” Di explains. Sam shivers. Things did always seem to go after him before Dean. His throat often has the bruises to prove it.

“How, how would I do that?” Sam asks quietly, eyeing Dean who’s still chatting up at the bar.  
“Go back to whoever it was might have made these for you and ask them to remove them. They’ll probably have a safe space for you to do that. Then get them to teach you how to do your own. I would, but when it’s someone elses work…even though their not very strong their intricate enough don’t want to mess with them. But I’d do it soon, otherwise the result might not be pretty.”  
“What will happen?”  
“Your gifts will start popping out and you wont really be able to control them. That’s dangerous, and not very fun depending on what you’ve got. I’d go see this Missouri ASAP.” Di advised. Sam nods his understanding, trying to think of a way to get Dean to go back to Kansas without having to explain this whole ‘I’ve got a freaky head’ thing. Dean never much liked psychics. Missouri was okay, but Sam knew well enough that Dean saw most of them as being this close to supernatural themselves. Not threats, but not normal. Sam sighs, as if he wasn’t weird enough. Diana rises with a smile,  
“I’m going to head back to my hotel and get some well deserved sleep. I’ll be leaving in a few days. Maybe I’ll see you before then?”  
“Yeah maybe.” Sam mutters in return.  
“If not, good luck.” Di extends a hand and Sam looks up at her, jarred out of his thoughts. He smiles and grasps her hand warmly in his.  
“Thanks.”  
“Not a problem. You need anything, you give me a call. Being new to all this can be tough, but you seem like you’re up to it.” She slips a business card into his hand. Sam looks at it incredulously as she walks away.  
“You write romance novels?” He calls after her.  
“Gotta have a way to pay the bills.” She replies with a wave of her hand before she pushs past the door and out of sight. Sam stares after her and begins laughing. He’s still chuckling when Dean comes back to the table, rather wasted but looking pleased as a cat who’d been in the cream.  
“The blonde one at the bar, June-” but Dean cuts himself off at Sam’s continued chuckles. “Dude, what is it?” Sam wordlessly hands over the card. Dean takes it and stares.  
“You mean…Your kidding.” Sam shakes his head.  
“Nope, god who would have thought.” Sam still chuckles. “You dare me to read one romance novel, and it’s written by a hunter. I knew there was a little to much detail in that ‘boyfriend of the night’ vampire subplot.” Dean glares but there’s no anger in it, and by the time they’ve made it out to the Impala, Dean is laughing too. At least they’ve never had to go undercover as romance novelists.


End file.
